Hearts
by Tobi Tortue
Summary: Yzak has just become Defense Chairman of PLANT, but apparently needs anger management lessons for his own safety. Dearka visits him in a time of need. YzakDearka fluff. INDEFINITE HIATUS/DISCONTINUED
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry everyone, but this one was written in Japan, on a Japanese computer. All of the apostrophes are colons because I could not find the apostrophe key. Also, if there are any other formatting or random puncuational errors, please forgive me but please let me know so I can fix them later when I return to America. Thank you!

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**Hearts**

Ironically, when Dearka realized he was in love, it had been Yzak:s heart that skipped a beat.

Or two. Or three or four.

Dearka hurried to catch the elevator, a worried frown replacing his usual half-mocking smile. An older lady in scrubs smiled at him, or rather she smiled at the large boquet in the young man:s hand. She patted his arm in that familiar way old people you don:t know tend to do.

"I:m sure everything:ll be just fine." The elevator made a _ding!_ And the nurse got offo n the 3rd floor.

Alone in the elevator, Dearka had the sudden feeling that the nondescript but slightly bouncy classical music was not only out of place, but downright oppressive. The 8th floor did not come soon enough.

Dearka gripped the flowers and tried to take deep breaths as he walked down the white hallway. His footsteps echoed.

Room 812, Dearka reminded himself, his heart beginning to pound. Show some courage, he berated inwardly. Imagine what Yzak:s going through right now.

Dearka:s heart gave a painful squeeze and he carefully rejected the idea to go to the 3rd floor to find that nurse.

His ZAFT boots stopped their clicking, and Deraka:s hand raised to the door. Should he knock?

Deciding that it would be worse if he woke the newly-elected Defense Chairman of PLANT, Dearka let himself in quietly.

Yzak was lying in bed, propped up by pillows, reading the day:s newspaper. Without looking up, he started speaking in his newly-perfected authorative chairman voice.

"I:m supposed to be able to rest, and in my book that means no media." His tone had acertain crispness to it, and for some reason that confident, almost-angry note lifted Dearka:s spirits.

"In that case, sir," Dearka began cheekily. Yzak:s head shot up, and his perfect, straight hair swung around his face.

"Dearka! Why d--" _didn:t you say so earlier,_ the sentence was supposed to say. Instead, it transformed into "Why d-do you have flowers?" Yzak looked puzzled.

"They:re for you of course," Dearka explained, setting them by the bedside table. He pulled a chair closer and sat on it.

Concern spread across his features. "Yzak, I just heard...so I came as quickly as possible." Dearka restrained the urge to take his friend:s hand a hold it tightly. He did this by sitting on his hands.

Fortunately, Yzak wasn:t paying attention to his friend:s strange behavior. His eyes had rolled to the ceiling. "Of course, that:s not counting the stop at the florist:s," he commented dryly.

Dearka winced. "They said you were in good condition..."

"Yeah, well, they lied." The former ZAFT commander said it bluntly, taking Dearka by surprise.

Dearka had the sudden and strange sensation of falling into a very deep and dark pit. Backwards. His eyes searched Yzak:s face for meaning. Yzak _wasn:t_ okay?

Yzak glanced over, his blue yes hard. "Anyone who:s a coordinator and only twenty-two is _not_ in good condition if their heart fails for no particular reason."

Yzak slumped back into the hospital bed, his head creasing the starchy pillow. Yzak:s blue, blue eyes were looking upward, as if he were determined not to look elsewhere.

"But..." Dearka began timidly, "how do you feel right now?"

"Oh, fine," came the reply. The confident and almost-angry was replaced by a note of bitterness that Dearka had only heard on few and tragic occasions. Once when Yzak learned he had destroyed a shuttle of civilians, and the second time when Yzak had learned the fate of his mother after the first Bloody Valentine War.

"Fine if you call sitting in a bed all day _healthy_. Fine if you call not know if you:ll be able to do your job _peachy_. Yeah, I:m just fine if _fine_ is probably having to give up everything I:ve worked for just because some geneticist screwed up 20 years ago!" Yzak:s fists were clenching to white sheets as if the sheets, not abnormal heart rhythms, were holding him back. "Damnit," he swore quietly, but vehemently, breathing hard.

A machine made a loud and annoying beep. Yzak continued staring up at the ceiling, gritting his teeth, and silence reigned in the small, sterile room.

Suddenly the door burst open and four people in white coats entered and rushed around Yzak:s bed. Dearka stood as a man stepping in front of him to check the dilation of Yzak:s pupils. Another moved the blankets down to put her hand on Yzak:s chest. Dearka expected Yzak to loudly tell them all to piss off, he had been in the middle of a conversation, but Yzak had closed his eyes and was only breathing loudly through his nose.

A different nurse addressed Dearka as she walked around the bed with Yzak:s limp but conscious form."I:m sorry sir, but we:re going to have to ask you to leave now. What the Chairman needs right now is some rest," she explained calmly, shooing Dearka out the door quietly.

As the door closed, he could hear the doctors and nurses speaking quietly amongst themselves.

But not a single word from Yzak.

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Don:t forget to look at the next chapter! And review! Thanks! 


	2. Chapter 2

**Hearts**

For Yzak Joule, Defense Chairman of PLANT, nothing was worse than being weak and not being able to do anything about it.

Yzak had never had low self-esteem. Why should he have? He considered himself to be the best and the brightest humanity had to offer. At ZAFT Academy, sure Zala had beaten him at everything but marksmanship, but he had easily been able to convince himself that Zala was graced with sheer, dumb luck, as well as his father:s influence. Afterwards, Yzak was the last one remaining in the elite le Creuset Team. He had been nominated and accepted as a temporary member for the Supreme Council just after the first war, making him the youngest in history. Then he had become the commander of ZAFT:s finest fleet. Sure, Zala had become a FAITH member, but it had only happened so the brat could be easily manipulated. Yzak definitely came out on top, no matter how he looked at it.

And now?

Yzak had never felt so worthless or so depressed in all his life. This time he couldn:t ignore the truth. He was far from perfect, and even less than average. He was, in all honesty, a defective human being.

Yzak doubted he would be able to keep his place on the council. And even if he recovered enough, the chances of reelection at some later date were slim. PLANT did not want someone whose brain had been deprived of oxygen for over ten minutes. Yzak knew that he would simply fade into oblivion. He would not lead PLANT into a safer era of true peace. People would look back, hundreds of years from now, and there would be no mention of Yzak Joule, except perhaps a footnote that he had left office after two months due to medical problems.

For Yzak, history playing out like this was worse than death.

Although that, too, was something he had to consider.

And if he died, who would care now?

Yzak knew _his_ heart (failing as it was, perhaps it served as some sort of metaphor now) would not go out to some arrogant bastard who was actually too weak t do what he promised to do.

Maybe, Yzak thought in some horribly cynical state of mind, he was just afraid of being alone.

The stupid, sterile hospital didn:t help.

The fluorescent lights stung his eyes, but he stubbornly kept staring up as they gradually watered. Distant, muffled beeps sounded regularly from beyond the four walls that enclosed him. He decided to list everything people probably hated about him.

His temper was probably number one. Already he had become famous at the office for having secretaries drop like flies and interns decide to try distance learning. His arrogance could go as number two. It wasn:t confidence anymore, he reflected dispassionately. His ability to brush talentless people aside like leaves in an autumn storm probably irked the talentless, making said ability number three. His hatred of the weak was number four. His lack of follow-through in office belonged in the top five, although it technically hadn:t fully happened yet. Six was how slender he was. Almost feminine, and he hated it. Seven was how he denied every shortcoming and blamed someone else, eight his fear of a loss of control. Number nine of the list of why to hate Yzak Joule was his inability to let anyone get close to him. Number ten was his stupid, weak, and useless hear—

"Yzak!" cried a familiar voice with soothing concern.

Yzak looked up through the tears and the tips of his silver bangs. He took a deep breath, hoping it would steady him. He hadn:t heard Dearka break the monotonous silence of room 812, but even though he was crying and looking more pathetic than he ever had in his whole life, he was glad Dearka had come.

Before he really knew what had happened, or why, he was clinging to Dearka:s green uniform and crying into the collar. Dearka:s strong arms were encircling his shuddering shoulders protectively.

"Yzak…" he heard the soldier say, his voice torn with suppressed emotion. But it wasn:t exactly pity, Yzak:s mind realized dimly. It was deeper, and much more powerful.

Dearka:s hand moved slowly up and down Yzak:s hospital-gowned back. Yzak hiccupped pitifully, but for perhaps the first time in huis life, he didn:t care if someone knew he was capable of being an average human.

Dearka:s warm breath whispered random words of encouragement into Yzak:s hair. Yzak sniffled and clung tighter, as if Dearka were the only rock he had during a stormy high tide.

"No matter what," Dearka whispered, raising his voice so Yzak could actually hear the individual words, "I:ll always be here for you, Yzak."

And suddenly, without warning, Yzak knew why.

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Please let me know what you think! This is my first fic with a true Yzak/Dearka pairing in mind, rather than Dearka hinting to piss off Yzak. If you think I should continue the fic, I have some other material I can add and turn it into a story, rather than just fluff. Just let me know. 


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